


Hold Up Half the Sky

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Adventure of a Lifetime [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fill, Request Meme, Rescue, True love is knowing each other's food preference, Tumblr Prompt, platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 18,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: The Ship fics from my1000 Followers Special.





	1. Sheith - “It’s two sugars, right?”

It was amazing, how Shiro affected the Castle for Keith.

When they’d first arrived, it had been a place to stay.  Simple a place to rest themselves and the lions.  But then it had stopped being quite so Shiro-and-Keith and then everyone else, if slowly.  The Castle of Lions had become the homebase of his team, and then simply home. Keith was happy there.  There were things he missed about Earth, but they were mostly  _ things. _  Over the course of several months, it had become something more.  It had become home in a way even Keith’s desert shack hadn’t managed.

But then things had changed.

Shiro had gone, and the Castle became something else entirely.

It was the hangar for the lion that wouldn’t listen to Keith and the one that would, but he wasn’t supposed to use.  It was a place of unwanted responsibility, of obligations to someone Keith couldn’t match in the way he thought he was supposed to.  Keith had no way to out-Shiro a ghost, after all.  It was the backdrops to fights, to session after session of frantically trying to form Voltron despite the hole in their team.

It was a place of managing, of barely scraping together.  Of patching the tears as quickly as he could manage, and rarely with anything like grace.

The survived.  They continued on, even as they searched frantically for the person who Keith knew actually suited it.  

Keith wondered if that was how Shiro had felt that whole time.  If to him, everything had been a barely stamped out fire, and then he was moving to the next and the next.  

Now, weeks and months later, he had the opportunity to ask.

But not the courage.

It was a relief, to step back.  Shiro had eyed Keith like he was taking something away, like he was being selfish to wear the Black Paladin armor again.  But to Keith, it was just a return to how things should be, the same way that when Shiro had returned to Earth, it wasn’t an imposition to have Shiro in his shack.

It made the Castle home again, to have Shiro back.  

But things had changed, in the months without Shiro, and not just that his hair was now a complete, shocking white - so much so that Lance joked that with a good sharpie they could pass Shiro off as an Altean, now.

Little things.  That they had a few new drills they liked to run during training that Shiro didn’t know at all.  That there were new items and tools lying around that Shiro would spot and then inspect, turning them over in his hands with a blank expression.

That they’d found a place that sold coffee.

Well, not  _ coffee. _  But a bitter, dark drink that had something not unlike caffeine.  The taste wasn’t exactly right, but that didn’t really matter when it  _ smelled _ right.  Somehow, having just that scent in the morning made the day easier.

Or maybe Keith was just a recovering coffee addict. He’d given it up in his couple of months in the desert, and he was trying not to get quite so dependent again, if he could help it.

Yawning, Keith wandered into the kitchen. He’d gotten in the habit of getting up early during his time in leadership, as part of his campaign to do as much as Shiro used to.  He didn’t have to, anymore - hadn’t had to back then - but the habit had stuck.

Apparently it had for Shiro, whatever else had happened during his weeks of not being fully  _ physical _ , somehow, someway.  Because he was already there and enjoying the coffee.

“Mmm,” Shiro greeted, around a mouthful.  He swallowed and raised his mug as a hello.  “Want a cup?”  In the early morning he was relatively relaxed still, and it looked like he’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep, miracle of miracles.

Sitting down at the table, Keith nodded.  “Please.”

“It’s two sugars, right?”

Keith nodded, eyes wide.  “You remembered?”

Eyeing him, Shiro poured the coffee and stirred in the sugar.  “Of course.  I only saw you make it a few dozen times, back in the Garrison.”

Keith didn’t mention that the last time Shiro had seen that was years ago. He didn’t mention that part of that had been a year of torture and then all that was lost in his memories.  Apparently those things didn’t matter to Shiro.

But Keith’s coffee order did.

He took the cup, chest warm, and pushed out the chair for Shiro to take. “You should sit.  There’s a whole table here just for it.”

“Hah.”  But Shiro did settle into place, so close their elbows nearly brushed.  “Sleep well?”

“Yeah.  Better since you came back.  One less thing to worry about.”  More like a dozen, and Keith would feel worse about dumping them on Shiro, except he looked so happy to be back and accepted and in the job he wanted that it was hard to regret it.

Shiro chuckled in perfect understanding. “I’m still sorry for that.”

Rolling his eyes, Keith gently elbows him on the arm.  “Don’t be.  You didn’t do it on purpose.  It was that last fight and nothing else.  I’m glad to have you back, though, even if it had been your fault.”

Shiro’s lips quirked up.  “You’re glad?  Not we?”

“Well, yeah, everyone.  But me.”  Keith met his gaze dead on, nearly daring Shiro to do something about it.

It wasn’t a surprise that Shiro only blushed and nodded his head. He was still adjusting, and had been in a near constant state of that for a long, long time.  Keith would be stability instead, not another change.

But things might be easier.  The team was less dependent on him now, if for a sad reason.  They wouldn’t be such a weight on his shoulders because they’d learned not to be, not anymore.  And Keith understood what he’d been going through, in a way that had never been as real before.

For now, Shiro only smiled at him over the edge of his mug, and their shoulders pressed together in the quiet kitchen.

They could take that change later.

For now, Keith was happy to have a home again.  One with the little things, like someone who knew how he liked his space coffee.

That was enough for now.


	2. Shance, 83, "Stay there I'm coming to get you"

When the comm crackled to life, Lance’s heart stuttered.

“Shiro?  Shiro, hun, is that you?”

God, he hoped so.  It had been a solid half an hour since Shiro had gone down, and they hadn’t heard a peep since.  

That wouldn’t be such a problem, if Shiro had been in the Black Lion instead of some dinky little stolen craft.  But when the Galra had showed up and he was alone in port, it was the only thing available to get out of there.

But no matter how good a pilot Shiro was - how good any of them were - there was only so much he could have done against his tail, and he was used to the armor and flight pattern of a Voltron lion, not a Galra scouting ship.

He’d gone down on the surface of the planet, and there’d been nothing since.

The planes were designed to crash.  Lance knew that.  They were made to take impacts and inertia that would kill instantly, no matter the species.  Shiro was probably fine.

Assuming the systems had all worked as Shiro was going down.

Assuming he hadn’t been hit by any kind of shrapnel or smacked his head again.

Assuming he’d taken the time to full strap himself in.

Assuming, assuming, assuming.

The ships had been easing pickings for the lions, once the rest of them had been able to get there.  And maybe it had been impulsive of Lance to dart ahead like that, but he was  _ worried. _  They all were.  And it wasn’t anything he didn’t know he could handle.  Lance wasn’t going to have to give them two pilots to recover, after all.

But since then, there hadn’t been a peep.  

They just had to head over to the crash site, once they found the tiny spot on the entire planet, and then they had to find Shiro while he wasn’t wearing his Voltron armor to track him with, then they had to get him home.

Easy peasy. 

“Shiro?  Shiro, c’mon, this isn’t the time to clam up on me.  How’s everything down there?  Good weather?”  Lance took a deep breath and waited a moment.  “Pidge.  How’s tracking the arm going?”

“Well, it’s not on, that’s for sure,” Pidge replied darkly.  “You’ll be the first to know when I got something, but it’s a small signal.”

It was, but it was all they’d got.

Finally, there was another crackle.  “Lance?” Shiro croaked, so quiet and rough it was almost inaudible.  “L-Lance... is that...?”

“Hey, there, Shiro.  You don’t sound so good.  Catching something, you think?”  Relief swelled through Lance, but it was weaker than it should be.  Because Shiro sounded weaker.  “You sound like I did when I got laryngitis, you remember that?”

There was a pause, and Lance was thankful for the tact of the others, keeping the line clear.  They’d been trading off calling for the Black Paladin helmet signal as they each searched, because an overwhelming amount of voices would probably just make matters worse, if Shiro was injured.  Too much worry and he had a tendency to shut his mouth and keep it all to himself, especially when he was out of it.

The idiot.

“Yeah. I remember.  Lance?  Where are you?”

“Right above you, babe,” Lance replied, trying to keep his voice cheerful.  “We just need you to give us a little wave, preferably with the right hand.  If you can can turn it on, we’ll be there in no time, and we’ll get you something for that throat, okay?”

Shiro made a quiet, confused noise.  “My throat doesn’t hurt.  Stomach does.”

Heart sinking, Lance took a deep breath.  For a moment, it felt like he was floating, like horror was dragging him out of Blue to hang in space.  But he took a deep breath and focused again.  “What’s wrong with your stomach, Shiro?  You sick?”

“No,” Shiro replied, and he had to be well and truly out of it, because his voice actually cracked on the word.  “I think I got...” he trailed off, voice quiet and small.  “I’m bleeding.”

Shrapnel, probably.  Lance had seen what happened to those scouting ships.  They broke apart, sometimes, and they’d find pieces of them dozens of feet away.

God, he wished he didn’t know that.

“How fast?” Lance asked.  “How fast, hun, you gotta tell me.”

“F-fast.”

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

“Lance,” Hunk murmured, voice tiny like he didn’t want to be speaking.  “His arm.”

Right, he need to activate it still, and-

Oh.  Shit.  His arm.

_ Shit. _

“Shiro?” Lance replied.  “We can make that stop, okay?  But you have to listen to me.  Can you turn on your arm?”

There was a pause.  “Yeah, think so,” Shiro replied, words starting to slur.  “Maybe.  Think I can.”

Images played behind Lance’s eyes, each more horrible than the last, but the steeled himself so his voice wouldn’t shake.  “I’m gunna need you to touch the wound with your hand.  We’re gunna cauterize it, okay?  No more bleeding.  Problem solved.”

“I-” Shiro’s voice broke again, this time the silence lasted longer.  Quietly, Lance heard Pidge curse, but he knew she wouldn’t crack this in time.  Even with her and Hunk’s combined genius, they couldn’t do on the fly tracking on something that small in just a few minutes.

And a few minutes seemed like all Shrio had.

“Lance?” Shiro called, voice strengthening.  “Will you-?”

Such a small question.  Didn’t stop it from breaking his heart.  “Yeah, Shiro?”

“Stay on the line?  I’m sorry, I just don’t wanna be alone.”

Lance snorted.  “I wasn’t going anywhere.  You couldn’t pay me to.  I’m right here.”

There was a deep shaky breath that Lance thought was Hunk, at first, but it wasn’t deep enough.  Keith, probably. 

They’d all stay on the line.  No matter what.

There was a pause.  “Thank you.”

And then there was the distinct crackling energy of Shiro’s hand activating.  A pause.

A scream so loud that Lance wanted to rip his helmet off to get away.

He didn’t.

“Got him!” Pidge announced, barely audible over the screaming.  “I got him, sending coordinates to Lance, you’re closest.  Go.  Go!”

Lance did not need to be told twice.  He was already dive bombing before he had the location fully downloaded.  “Stay there.  I’m coming to get you.”

There was no response.

For Shiro, being unconscious (Lance hoped) was probably a mercy.

Didn’t help the feeling when he got there.

***

Running his fingers along the new scar, still pink and shiny on Shiro’s skin, Lance sighed.  “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t be.  It kept me alive, and that’s better than the alternative.  Shiro took the hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss.  “You saved me and talked me through it. I’m sorry I put you through that.”

Lance sighed and tapped Shiro’s mouth with a knuckle.  “I don’t like giving you more scars.  But I do like you being alive more.  Don’t apologize for surviving.”

That only made Shiro snort.  “Then don’t apologize for saving me.  Even?”

Eyes tracking down, Lance frowned at the scar.

But he had plenty of his own, and Lance knew for a fact they were better than the alternative.

Scars meant you’d survived.  Lance had told Shiro that, years ago now, and Shiro had returned the favor the first time Lance got a large one to keep.

It wasn’t any less true now, even when it was on a body that wasn’t his own.

“Yeah.  We’re even.  Love you.”

Shiro smiled and kissed his fingers again.  “Love you too.”

Scars meant they’d survived, but so did love.

Lance preferred it, given the chance, but he’d take both today.


	3. Shatt, 39

It was the sound of choking sobs that caught Matt’s attention.

He paused, turning in a slow circle as he tried to figure out where the noises had come from.  There was no one around, and this was a pretty unused area of the Castle, filled with old meeting rooms and what had once probably been mechanic’s offices.

Nothing.  There was no one here.

Then there was another sniffle, from a little farther back down the hall.  And now that Matt was looking, he could see that despite the lack of light, the door was just slightly cracked open.

Oh boy.

Pushing the door open, Matt peered into the gloom.  He could see some shelving on the walls and an old chair, and some kind of lump in the corner farthest from the door.  As he stood there, he heard another hiccuping, wet noise.

A tap of the console lit up the room, and Matt saw Shiro, curled up in a fetal position, arms wrapped up to his head as he shuddered.

Oh  _ boy. _

“Shiro?”  There was no verbal response, and he curled in tighter on himself.  “Hey, c’mon, buddy.  You know where you are?  Can you hear me?”

There was a pause, and then Shiro gave a tiny, jerky nod.

Well, at least he was responsive.  Matt stepped closer, but Shiro curled in tighter on himself, so he stopped.  “You’re gunna need to be a little more specific.  Was that a yes to knowing where you are, or if you can hear me?”

For a moment, the only thing Matt heard was Shiro’s shallow, wet breathing.  Then he picked his head up enough to look at Matt.  “Both,” he croaked, voice raw.  “Go away.”

“See, I want to listen to you in theory, but generally when people are sobbing alone in dark rooms there’s a problem.  And I’m a problem-solver, Shiro.  I want to help.  Can I help?”

Letting out a slow breath, Shiro shook his head, but he did seem to be engaging him.  “No.  Unless you can make me stop dreaming.”

Matt’s heart clenched, and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath.  But he refused to react more than that, because too much sympathy and Shiro would close right back off.  “I mean, there are methods of doing that, but they generally involve medically induced comas.  Not usually worth it.”

That actually earned a snort from Shiro, but it was just as watery as his breathing.  “Might be.  I can’t- it’s always something.  I hate it.  I  _ hate _ it.”

“Me too,” Matt admitted.  He stepped over to the wall, now that Shiro wasn’t wrapped quite so defensively, and he slid down to sit next to him.  “Not sure if the memories are worse than the stuff I come up with.  Actually, I do, that’s a lie.  The fake ones are worse, because my mind is a bastard.”

Eyes slamming shut, Shiro nodded.  “Yeah.  Same here.  I wish I could just..  _ rip _ it out and then I could finally fucking rest.  You know?”

For a moment, Matt hesitated.  Then he rested a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.  “You want to talk about it?  Sometimes it’s easier when you do, ‘cause stuff makes sense in my head, but then I say it out loud and I suddenly see all the ways it’s impossible.  You know?”

“Mine’s not impossible,” Shiro replied. “Mine happened.  With the arm?  The others told you about it.”  It took a minute for Matt to place what Shiro meant, but then his stomach dropped.

When Shiro had been taken over by the programming and mechanics of his arm, turned against his team for information gathering purposes.

Yeah, that was pretty nightmare inducing.  Honestly, Matt was surprised he  _ hadn’t _ had that nightmare, except that the times he saw Shiro violent, it was nearly always to protect the team or himself.  On his list of fears, Shiro’s wrath didn’t really rank.

“It’s impossible now,” Matt replied.  “We’ve all had a good poke at that arm, and now there’s not much left in it that we can’t identify.  Everything’s accounted for, so no more nasty surprises.”

“So they can’t do it over a long distance,” Shiro relied darkly.  “What stops them from snapping a finger and taking me over when I’m there?  One second I’m protecting them, and the next I’m-” he cut himself off, curling back into his knees.  “And they were so afraid of me.  I was going to  _ hurt _ them.”

Matt’s entire chest felt like it was in a vacuum, and everything inside was trying to burst out.  He ran his hand already on Shiro’s shoulder to his back, then tugged him closer.  “Hey. Hey, it’s okay.  Shiro, if they could do that, they’d have done it already.  They’d use it first chance they got.  They’re never, ever going to get the chance to do it to you.  And if they try, they’re not gunna outdo the techno kung-fu of me, Katie and Hunk.  Okay?  So it’s alright.  Don’t cry.  I’ve got you.  We’re gunna keep you safe.”

It was a gamble, because Matt had never had the chance to really talk about it with Shiro.  But on occasion they mentioned their sessions, and Shiro had dropped comments that were probably more telling than he’d meant.

Which was maybe cheating, true.  But Matt was going to take every chance he had to make this easier, and it wasn’t his fault that Shiro had cracked jokes about emotion projection, and like fuck he’d known what that was on the way to Kerberos.  

So Matt could guess that if Shiro was freaking out over imaginary paladin reactions, there was some underlying cause.

Maybe Shiro had trouble owning up to his own emotions.  Matt would do it for him.

Shiro didn’t break into full tears again, but he did lean into Matt’s side.  He was heavy and warm, and he shook with tiny vibrations that spoke of threatening sobs.

But they never fell.

Not yet.  

Matt continued to pet, slow strokes up and down Shiro’s side until his breathing evened out until his shoulders relaxed.

It probably didn’t help anything, long term.  It wouldn’t make Shiro sleep better, wouldn’t stop the nightmares.

But for now, it was enough.


	4. Shallura, 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the species swap AU, Shiro and Keith are the Alteans while Allura and Coran are human

“You spend a lot of time here.”

Allura started, smacking her head against one of the panels of the red lion.  She pulled back rubbing over her hair.   _ Ow. _  Glancing over the lion’s flank, she spotted Prince Shiro gazing up.

Ah, hell.  Hopefully she hadn’t broken some kind of rule about how long she was supposed to stay in the hangar or something.  Mostly, she was still trying to get a better understanding of the lions.  Yeah, she had a vague idea of how they worked from the connection, but not  _ really. _  Not in depth, not enough to understand when something went wrong.  Plus, Allura had been immediately outclassed by Pidge and Hunk’s curiosity and knowledge.  She never dealt well with competition.  Too driven, her father had said.

The thought curled in her chest, heavy but fond.  He would have been so validated by the red lion choosing her.

“I do,” she finally agreed, climbing into the floating platform and heading back down to floor level.  “We’re bonding, right?”  She threw a pair of pistol fingers to the red lion, who didn’t even turn to look at her.

Fine, don’t back her up in front of the cute prince.  They’d see who got ear polishing for the next week.  Hmph.

Glancing at Allura’s hands, Shiro tilted his head, clearly trying to decode the meaning of it.  Frankly, Allura was content to let him wonder.  He and Keith talked about Altean concepts so rapid fire and casually all the time, without so much as a pause to see if they were confused.  This was  _ payback. _  “I’m glad to hear it.  I simply wished to make sure there wasn’t a problem.”

Oh.  That made sense, actually.  “No, using up some of our free time.  Trying to be productive.”

Shiro’s answering smile was soft and sad.  “I understand the desire.”

Damn, heavy.

“Did you need something to do?” Allura blurted.  Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut, except she didn’t want to just leave the pretty alien prince wallowing.  And actually talking about it would involve, like, diplomacy and tact.  Allura could have those things when she concentrated, but it had never been a particular interest of hers.  “You could, um, help.  If you wanted.”

Shiro blinked, and one of his ears twitched up.  Allura’s eyes darted to it, curious, then focused on his eyes again.  Hm, if Altean pupils had color, that implied there was a cover there.  Was it protective and see-through, or did their pupils just not work the same?  So many questions.

“If you do not mind the company,” Shiro finally replied, smiling softly.  “I do not mind offering a hand.  What do you need me to do?”

Good question.  Allura had been doing single-person tasks until now, and she wasn’t prepared for the swap.  What needed to be done that required a second person.  “Oh!  That tank in console is about out.  If you could give me a hand swapping out a new one for it, that’d be great.”

Shiro nodded.  “Certainly.”  Allura moved to take one side, so they could both lug the heavy metal container to the red lion’s mouth, but Shiro beat her to it. Instead he heaved the whole thing into his arms without so much as a blink or a hair out of place.

“Right.  Aliens.”  Allura shook her head ruefully.  “And I’m gunna apologize ahead of time for being stuck in a little room with me when I’m so gross.  I’ll shower when I’m done.”

Trotting after her, Shiro frowned.  “Gross how?”

Pausing, Allura glanced back at him and opened the cabinet.  “I just mean I’m kind of a mess.  Greasy and sweaty and poofing.  All that.”

There was a long pause as Allura wrestled out the empty canister from under the console, but when she looked back, Shiro looked concerned.  “You’ve been working hard.  That’s not a mess.  I think you’re beautiful.”

Maybe it should have been some kind of dramatic declaration, but the way Shiro said it was so sincere and matter-of-fact that Allura paused.  That and because the cute alien prince had just called her beautiful.  Allura wasn’t low on confidence, but that was still... it deserved a moment.

Her life had gotten weird.

“Thank you,” she finally replied.  “I’m just saying I’m not at my optimum.”

“Optimum for what?” Shiro pressed, voice firming.  “You are exactly appropriate for maintenance on the lions.  And I have certainly seen worse than some sweat.”

There was a hard look to his eyes as he passed the full canister over, and Allura paused as she remembered how effective Shiro was in combat.

It was actually kind of easy to forget.  The rest of the time he wore such delicate, royal clothing, and even if he wasn’t small, the outfit slimmed him.  Plus, he stood next to Keith all the time, who positively radiated the desire to jump into a fight at any given moment.

“Well, nevermind then,” Allura finally replied.  It was easier than explaining gender norms and societal expectations about women’s bodies to an alien, after all.  “I’m glad I meet standards.”

“You do.”  Shiro’s tone was like he could force her to believe him through sheer strength of personality.

Honestly, it wasn’t wrong.  Allura would agree to a lot, just because Shiro was radiating such pure sincerity.

“Good.  Now hand me that weird circular doohickey on the pilot chair, please.”

With a smile, Shiro handed it over.  He was still looking at her like that, and for a moment Allura let herself look back.  She took in the features both familiar - the strong jaw and broad hands - and alien - the purple irises and eye marks, the slender, tapering ears.

Yeah, Allura was the beautiful one in here.  Sure.

Eh.  Maybe they both could be.  Allura could work with that.


	5. Shunk, 38

“So I raise my hand, but not too high, you know?  Because god forbid I actually get called on when I need to get the teacher’s attention.  And it’s not like it was Iverson, who saw if your hand so much as twitched.  It was Jameson - mid-tirade Jameson, too, and you know what he’s like.”

Shiro grinned and nodded.  “Oh yeah.  You could have stood up on your desk with a full brass section and he wouldn’t have seen you.”

Hunk threw one hand out, while the other continued to work at the joints of Shiro’s metal arm.  “Exactly.  So I’m sitting there, about two seconds from losing everything I’ve eaten in the past week and feeling like I’m going to pass out at any moment, and just when I try to raise my hand more and actually ask if I can go get medical attention, that’s when Jameson decided he needs a volunteer.”

Clapping his natural hand over his mouth, Shiro didn’t manage to hide his smile.  “Oh no.”

“Oh, yes.  He turns around, hands on his hips, and you can just see his shock when he sees it’s my hand in the air.  ‘Cause I’ll answer a question on the board if you make me or whatever, but volunteering with the projected simulator?  Never.  Never in my life.  I still wouldn’t.”  Hunk drew himself off and pulled off his goggles, imitating Jameson’s stunned expression.  “ _ You _ want to volunteer?”  He drew out the word ‘you’, filling it was as much incredulous shock as he could manage.

Shiro let out a snort.  “Oh, god, I wish I didn’t believe that, but he’d absolutely be that much of an ass about it.”

Pointing at Shiro with the brush, Hunk nodded.  “Exactly.  Like,  _ rude _ .  If I had been volunteering, I’d have died right there.  On the spot, keeled over from a humiliation heart attack and they’d be dragging my limp body out of the classroom.  But since I wasn’t trying to volunteer, that just sent my anxiety spiking, and I thought I was going to have to present, unprepared, doing something I hated doing, in front of the entire class as a demonstration.  A class, I might remind you, including friggin’  _ Keith.” _

Finally dropping his hand, Shiro let his head fall back as he barked out a laugh.  “Like Keith was paying attention at all in Jameson’s class.”

“I didn’t know that!  But Lance looks over me like I’ve lost my damn marbles, and Jameson goes ‘well alright’ and tries to motion me forward, and I have no idea what to do except to panic.  And you know what happens to me when I get nervous.”

At first, Shiro tilted his head, not getting it. But then his eyes widened.  “Your stomach.  And you were already sick.  Oh  _ no. _ ”

“It wasn’t all the way, but I definitely must have gone green, and I started to gag.  Like, violent cartoon gagging.  Then Jameson figured out that maybe there was a reason I had my hand raised, so he started to panic and he tried to step forward.  But then he hit the table, and he had the stupid console out on the edge so we could all see it and someone could come up and work it, right?  So it teethers, and I swear, the entire class saw the thing fall in slow motion.  I saw every stage of grief fall over Jameson’s face as that thing went down.  Then the computer worth, what, nearly five digits?  It falls flat and you can  _ hear _ the crunch.”

Shiro lost it completely, resting his face in the table as he laughed.  “Oh no,” he cried, drawing out the words, and his breath hiccuped.  “I remember that week.  He was in such a bad mood after.  I heard that a console got broke, but they never told us how.  I figured some younger years had been screwing around.”

Watching Shiro with open satisfaction, Hunk closed up the panel on his arm.  A successful cleaning without so much as a wince from him.  Part of it was that Shiro was getting used to accepting the help without as much fuss, but Hunk thought a lot of it was down to his method.  If he could keep Shiro distracted with funny stories - or things that were funny in hindsight instead of horribly embarrassing - he’d stay calm the whole time.

As Shiro wound down, Hunk settled back, enjoying the flush to Shiro’s cheeks, making the scar stand out even more.  “I like your laugh.  We don’t hear it enough.”

Pausing, Shiro glanced up at him, eyes wide.  “Oh.  Thank you?  Do I really not laugh that much?”

“Not like this,” Hunk replied.  “Not full bodied.  Usually just chuckles.”

Shiro’s brow furrowed as he absorbed that.  “Huh.”

Reaching out, Hunk hesitated, then put his hand in Shiro’s hair.  “You’ve had a lot on your plate.  But that doesn’t mean it has to stay that way.”

Eyes meeting his, Shiro tilted his head.  “I’d like that,” he offered, voice soft.  “Would you help?”

“Try and stop me,” Hunk said, and he trailed his hand down, brushing the knuckles along Shiro’s cheekbones.

Shiro’s answering smile was bright as his laughter before.  Turning, he kissed Hunk’s knuckles, then leaned into the touch.

It was a soft, unspoken thing, tentative and new.

But laughter wasn’t something spoken either.  Despite that, it was something necessary.


	6. Hance, 67

The problem with cooking with alien ingredients was that not everything could be a soaring success.

The proof of that was currently sitting in the kitchen, filled with water to make it easier to scrub out later.

Luckily, Hunk cooked big enough portions that there tended to be a good amount of leftovers for other meals, and they weren’t left with just food goo that night.  It was a bit chaotic, as everyone picked out whatever they were in the mood for from the Altean-not-fridge.  The exception was Shiro, because Hunk jammed a serving of that purple cheese-powder tasting not-fish into his hands.  He was literally the only person on the ship who could stomach the taste, and there was plenty to go through.  Shiro only laughed.  After that, they sat down as normal for the meal.

But it was hard to relax and enjoy when Hunk knew what was waiting for him in the kitchen later.  He knew not everything worked out, but it was a lot harder to accept that when it didn’t also involve some scorched pots and a sticky, stinky, blue goop that had taken ten minutes just to get off his hands.

Lance kept eyeing him all meal, too, and Hunk wasn’t sure what he was up to.  It was definitely something.  There was a look in his eye like he was going to try and convince Hunk to sneak out of the Garrison for the evening, or that he had some kind of ridiculous plan or another for getting a high score in the simulator.

But instead, Lance just nudged Pidge.  “Hey, didn’t you have a project you wanted to talk about?”

“What?” Pidge paused, spoon hanging out of her mouth.  She turned to Lance, brow furrowed.  “What project?”

Lance shrugged back.  “I don’t know, it was a lot of words and yadda yadda blah blah.  You mentioned it at training?”

For a moment Pidge blinked, but then she nodded.  “Oh, right!  Thanks for reminding me.  Yes.  Hey, Shiro, can you move over here?  It’s about your arm.”

Shiro’s brows jumped up, but he moved closer, sitting so his right arm was next to Pidge and switching his fork to his left.  “Sure, what about it?”

“I was thinking about...” her voice trailed for a moment, searching for words, probably.  “How Shiro’s able to interface with Galra tech.  I want to know if we can recreate that in our suits.”

Hunk considered, pausing with his spork resting on his vegetables.  “But they already recognize Shiro’s signature, right?  At that secret base it set off all kinds of alarms.”

That only made Pidge shrug.  “If we have the information out of it, I bet we can make a fake ID that passes muster.  We can test it out on a couple of smaller bases until we get one that works.  We might even be able to figure out if there’s a pattern and pull out, like, commander IDs.”

“I might be able to help with that,” Shiro offered mildly.  “We can see if I remember anything about that kind of organization.”

Hunk froze again.  “Not if it’s going to be a problem. Usually our goal is to keep you from remembering when we’re working on your arm.”

Shrugging, Shiro waved him off.  “This is a little different.  It’s just organizational information.  Not so likely to bother me.”  He paused, his eyes darting away, but before Hunk could follow the look he started to work his fingers again.  “Actually, when you go in, I think I could use a bit of a cleaning.  I do my best, but I think it’s slowed a bit.”

Hunk took hold of Shiro’s hand, working the fingers carefully.  “Uh oh.  How bad is it?”

“Very mild,” Shiro reassured him.  “I’m not even sure I’m not imagining it.  But it’s worth getting it worked over once in awhile anyway.  I just hate to put it on your guys’ schedules.”

Snorting, Pidge kicked Shiro’s chair, making him slide over an inch.  “Don’t be silly.  It’s no problem.  Besides, it’s like a ten minute job anyway, and the results are more than worth it.  Right, Hunk?”

“Absolutely,” he agreed, nodding.

Shiro gave them a smile back, shrugging his other shoulder.  “I know, but usually I can handle it anyway.  I feel better knowing I’m at least somewhat self-sufficient.”

Well, Hunk could understand that.  Hmm, maybe there was something they could do so Shiro could work with his arm better?  They’d need to see which spots were giving him trouble.  It would probably be doable, though.  Reaching for his water, Hunk took a sip, then paused when he realized the seat next to him was empty.  “Where’d Lance go?”

“Bathroom,” Keith replied.  “At least I assume.  That’s the way he went.  I didn’t ask.”

Ah.  Hunk nodded in response and bent back over Shiro’s hand, focusing on the movements.  “I don’t see any delays.”

“It’s not always, I just haven’t figured out a pattern.”  Shiro made a fist and then loosened it.  “Just a resistance, even.  Not like a tug.”

Hmm...

Hunk lost himself in the project, working each of Shiro’s fingers individually.  Then someone snorted, and Hunk glanced up to see Lance with his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up, standing in the door of the kitchen.  “Well, that kept him occupied.”

“You didn’t exactly give us much warning,” Pidge objected.  “It was on the fly.”

Blinking slowly, Hunk looked over Lance, then back at the rest of the team.  Then it hit.  “Wait, you were distracting me?  Why?”

“I did the dishes for you.  If you weren’t busy, you would have fought me over it.  Now the deed is done.”  Lance popped back down in his chair, radiating smugness.

Hunk froze, eyes wide.  “You...?  Lance, no, those pots were awful!  You didn’t have to do that.  It must have taken...” He checked the closest console and frowned.  “At least half an hour!”

Rolling his eyes, Lance shrugged.  “It’s not like I’ve never done dishes before.  And it’s no fair you clean  _ and _ cook.  It’s not such a problem when it’s just shoving them into the washer after dinner, but it’s different when it’d be a lot of work.  So there.”  When Hunk continued to stare, Lance huffed.  “You do so much, dude.  The least we can do is help clean up after.  We take advantage, sometimes, and it’s not fair, so you’re not allowed to fight me on this.  I forbid it.”

For a moment, that all banged around Hunk’s head, catching on something he hadn’t even realized was vulnerable.  Then he melted, feeling his eyes water just a touch.  “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Lance replied, smiling back.  “And hey, I had the easy part, I was just cleaning.  A bit of elbow grease.  I didn’t have to keep you distracted.”

Hunk shot the others a quick smile too, but then he darted out and kissed Lance’s cheek, gratitude bubbling in him like a geyser.  “Well, I appreciate the elbow grease, too.  Thank you all.”

Lance nodded back, his eyes wide and cheeks coloring with a blush.

Snickering, Pidge nodded.  “Cool.  Now, I was going to go work on projects, but all this goopy stuff makes me want to watch stuff explode. I’m thinking it’s a movie night.”

“I’m in,” Keith agreed flatly, pushing out of his chair.  “Preferably not sci-fi.”

“I’m good with sci-fi,” Shiro offered, smiling at Keith’s answering scowl.

They started for the door, already throwing around possible titles, and Hunk pushed out of his chair.  But he paused when Lance didn’t.  “You coming?”

“Huh?”  Lance blinked quickly like he was coming out of a daze, and his cheeks reddened further. “Yeah.  Sure.  Let’s go.”

Hunk offered him a hand up, and then didn’t let go as he led Lance to the rec room.  

His chest felt warm, and his palm even more so.


	7. Shatt, 89

A cup was set down on top of Shiro’s tech pad.

Starting, he yanked his head back, no longer half-slumped over it as he read.  When Shiro glanced up, he saw Matt leaning over from the other side of the table, hand still outstretched from where he’d let the cup drop the last inch or so.

Picking it up, Shiro glanced inside.  It was the watery juice that, when heated, wasn’t too far from spiced apple cider (if it were caffeinated).

“Starting to nod off there, weren’t you?” Matt asked, brows up blandly.

Shiro stared back, but it wasn’t like he could deny it, with the way he’d just nearly jumped out of his skin from a cup.  It wasn’t like Matt was subtle, either, so he’d had to walk all the way up, stretch across a table, and then drop it down without Shiro noticing.

Finally, he sighed.  “A little,” Shiro admitted.  “I don’t have the greatest attention span today.”

Nodding, Matt moved around the table to sit next to him.  “Caffeine will help.  Drink up.  It’s still warm, Hunk just made a batch.”

Shiro let out a greedy noise and took a sip, eyes falling closed in bliss.  Perfect.  “Remind me to thank him later, this was exactly what I needed.”

“He knows.  I asked him to make it for you.”

Shiro froze, then stared at Matt.  “I didn’t- why?  I didn’t ask for that.”

Snorting, Matt leaned back into his chair.  “Because you’ll never ask for it, even when you need it.  Which you do.  You probably had a rough night last night, right?”

“That doesn’t mean,” Shiro stared down at the tea, brow furrowed.  “He didn’t need to go through the trouble.”

Matt snorted and nudged Shiro’s shoulder.  “The very big trouble of making some juice and heating it up.  Besides, everyone loves this stuff, and he likes making people happy.  I doubt he’s crying over it.  And it perked you up, right?”

Slowly, Shiro nodded, curling his hand tighter around the cup.  “It did.  Or, well, it will.  I’ve only had a sip.  You’re right, I’m tired. I was out of it today.”

“I noticed.” 

Shiro’s eyes went wide, and he sat up straighter.  “How?  Did I say something?”

“What?  No.  Don’t be ridiculous.”  Matt waved him off.  “Don’t worry, your self-destructive skills are as sharp as ever.  It’s not that.  I just notice you, that’s all.  Including when you’re sleepy.”

It was said so casually that Shiro nearly didn’t catch the full meaning of what Matt had just said.  He was paying attention to Shiro.  He noticed when he was off, and made the effort to help him, even in small ways.

Picking his head up, Shiro met his eyes.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Matt replied, and his smile was vulnerable in ways that Shiro wasn’t used to seeing.  “Someone needs to look out for you.  I’m happy to do it.”  Then he cleared his throat.  “And, you know, I’m not in your little chain of command, so it makes sense it’s me.  You won’t ask for help because you’re very busy being the big infallible leader.  So I’m here to remind you that you’re human still.”

The joking was back to normal, but Shiro couldn’t forget the vulnerable clarity of Matt’s smile.

Shiro took a swig from his drink like it was a beer rather than juice-tea.  Then he set it aside and took a risk.

He pressed his lips to Matt’s.

For one long moment, Matt stayed utterly, painfully still.  Then his hand shot forward, cupping the back of Shiro’s head, and he kissed back feverishly.

Thank  _ fuck. _  Shiro would have had to throw himself out an airlock if he’d gotten this wrong.

“I will get you as much tea as you want if it earns me more kisses,” Matt breathed.  “You want more?”

“This one’s on the house,” Shiro replied, and he kissed Matt again.

For a while, both the tea and the pad were forgotten as they moved closer and traded kisses.  Shiro found his hands on Matt’s hips, suddenly tempted to pull him into his lap to make this a little easier.

Which was a little much for having kissed the first time just a few minutes ago.  Time to take a breather.

Shiro pulled back and licked his lips, both to soothe where they were chapped and because he wanted to see if he could still taste Matt on them.  Matt’s eyes followed hungrily, and then snapped to meet Shiro’s own.  “Hey, Shiro.”

“Hm?”

“I like you.”

“I noticed.”


	8. Shatt, 63

There were days where Matt wanted to hide out.  He wanted to curl up in his room and not see another living person.  He wanted privacy, to be allowed to sit and think and deal with his life and what it had become.

Then there were days where the silence clawed at Matt.  Where being alone for too long felt like something was wrong, felt unnatural.  Days where Matt needed the noise and heat of someone else.

Today was one of the latter.

Or, rather, tonight was.  Matt had woken up from a nightmare of being trapped in one of the rooms of- well, it had maybe been the castle, except the lighting was dark and purple tinged, and it didn’t sound like the castle.  It sounded like-

Well, like that first ship.

Except it was like this time, rather than being wounded and taken to the mining planet with his dad, Matt had been thrown into a cell with no doors and windows and left to pace and scream and cry.

When he’d woken, Matt had done all three.

What he wanted was someone else in the room with him.  A reminder that he wasn’t trapped and alone, and that someone else was hearing him, he wouldn’t die forgotten and sealed in.

But at 4 AM standard castle time, there weren’t many options.  Matt had started to wander in the hopes that he’d stumble on someone having the same trouble, but so far no luck.

Matt wasn’t going to be able to sleep like this.  Hell, he could barely stand in one place, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he tried to figure out what to do.

If this was Shiro or Katie he was talking to-

Well, Matt had told them both on more than one occasion: it’s fine.  Wake me.  We’ll talk it over, and then we’ll go to bed, and it’ll feel like so much less in the artificial daytime.

Faced with his own advice, Matt hesitated.  

Neither of them slept well.  His sister had always been a night owl, and getting her brain to settle and let her sleep was always a challenge.  And Shiro barely slept half the night on a good cycle.  Was he really going to wake either of them?

Sure, Matt could technically wake his father instead, but...

No, he’d done more than enough of carrying Matt over the past year and change.  And now that circumstances weren’t quite so dire, there was a discomfort to trying to wake his father after a nightmare.  It was childish.

And if Matt was going to be childish, he was going to do it in the ways he picked himself.  Besides, he didn’t want to end up shaking one of his parents awake, not when he knew the other side of the bed would be empty.

Of them, Shiro was the best option.  It wasn’t for sensible reasons, just that Matt knew Shiro would be soft and sleepy and would cuddle easily.  Matt would be able to grip him tight and feel Shiro’s smile against his neck, to breathe in the scent of the floral shampoo that Matt was almost certain he was getting from Princess Allura.

He just had to do it.

Matt stared at the door and nearly gave up.

But if he was going to ask people to do this when they were having trouble sleeping, Matt needed to be able to put money where his mouth was.

So he finally knocked.

It took a solid minute, but then Shiro opened the door, ruffled and eyes barely slitted open.  “Matt?  S’mthin wrong?”

“Could just use some company, if you don’t mind,” Matt replied, matching Shiro’s soft, sleepy tone.

For a moment, Shiro blinked, processing that.  “M’not good company.”

Matt smiled.  “Yeah, you are.  Just need you there.  That okay?”

Clearly giving up on words, Shiro gave a bobbing nod and took Matt’s hand, then headed back into bed.  He collapsed back onto it with none of his usual grace, then held up the blanket for Matt to snuggle in as well.

Chest warm and too full, Matt kicked off his shoes and pressed in.  He immediately tucked Shiro in against him, tangling their legs together.

Better.  So much better already.  The shared blankets were still warm from Shiro’s heat, and the soft noises of his boyfriend settling back down filled the room, quiet as they were.

“C’n I help?” Shiro slurred, not picking up his head.

Matt pressed a kiss to his forehead.  “Nope.  You’re helping enough right now.” But then he paused, the imagery of the dream flashing behind his eyes again.  “Just... if I was trapped somewhere, you’d get me.  Right?”

“Always,” Shiro replied.  “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

The childish phrasing made Matt smile, but it paused as he mentally filled in the rest.  “You ever think about how dark that rhyme is?”

Rather than answer, Shiro made an encouraging, dazed noise, not really sounding like he was listening at all.

It could wait till morning.  This was all he’d needed.  Matt ran his fingers through the hair at the base of Shiro’s neck, just for the very quiet, velvety rasp of it.  “Love you, Takashi.”

There was no answer but deep breathing.

That wasn’t a problem.   Matt didn’t need to hear it.  Shiro had said it already, with offered blankets, eager cuddles and childish promises.

That was more than enough.


	9. Shallura, 81

Allura might not have been an expert it all things human.  Not yet, at least.  There were a few areas where she would consider herself an authority, such as how to make one human in particular completely lose his cool.  But that didn’t take an expert.

Still, she was pretty sure that two cycles was a long time for a human to go without sleeping.

“I’m fine,” Shiro insisted, not even looking up.  That might have been strategic, though.  Allura had commented that morning on the discoloration under his eyes, not unlike a pale bruise.  Shiro had waved her off then, too.

Allura hummed thoughtfully, watching him.  Normally, it was a personal thrill to have him sprawled on her bed so casually.  It had taken weeks of gentle prodding and suggestions to get them to this point.  So now he relaxed with her, doing his work in her room, relaxing back against her pillows like he belonged there.

Which Shiro did, of course.

But today, it was nearly painful to see him in such a comfortable place, forcing himself up and ignoring his fatigue.

Which meant something needed to be done.

So Allura hummed rather than replied, letting Shiro regain his focus.  Then she slid in next to him, her hand running through his hair.  She was careful not to interrupt his line of sight, aware that would give the game away.  “Scoot up.”

Automatically, Shiro did, moving forward so that Allura could slide behind him.  He barely seemed to be aware of himself, mouthing as he read along.

Allura appreciated Shiro’s dedication, but those addresses and greeting phrases could wait a day or two.  What Shiro really needed was sleep, or at least relax.

So Allura ran both her hands up the back of Shiro’s neck and the short hairs along the curve of his skull.  He let out a quiet sigh and leaned into it, finally pausing.

“Did you need something?” Shiro asked, tone just a touch defensive.

Allura hummed again, non-committal and distracted.  “Just enjoying myself.”

That was an answer Shiro accepted, and he settled back against her, letting her support his weight.  Which, while significant compared to the other humans, was certainly not more than what an Altean could easily take.

Allura continued to work her fingers, never fully massaging but letting the warmth of her hands seep into his skin.  Humans, while not cold blooded, seemed drawn to heat.  More than once, she’d caught Pidge putting her clothing into the drying units, just to put them back on when they were warmed.

Slowly, inch by inch, Shiro’s arms relaxed into his lap, and his head started to droop.  “Is my hair entertaining?” 

“Very.  The texture is interesting.”  Allura let her fingertips run from the nape to the top of his head, enjoying the transition between buzz and longer strands.  “Why do you do this?  Is there a particular reason?”

Silence hung for a moment, long enough that Allura worried she’d asked something more personal than she’d meant to.  “Not really,” he finally answered.  “It was a rebellious haircut when I was younger, and then at the Garrison it was... this isn’t exactly regulation, but it’s within guidelines.  I liked that I wasn’t breaking rules, but I was still getting away with something.”  He paused, then laughed.  “Well, the bangs do break regulation, but so barely I was able to get away with it.  The perks of being the golden boy.”

Allura moved her fingers to the root of his bangs, massaging there.  “I like that part.  You’re very cute when you look up me through them.  And I like that they’re long enough to get messy.”

There was a slight pause, probably Shiro pouting at being referred to as cute.  He always did, no matter how absurd that was.  Allura didn’t know why he resisted the truth so much.  “Well, the fact that they could get in my eyes was part of the problem.  Then I just got used to it.  I like this haircut on me.  So I kept it up the flight to Kerberos, even though it was a pain.  And...”  He trailed off, waiting so long that Allura thought he’d given up on the subject.  “I don’t know why or how I kept it in my year.  Just that I did.  If I had to guess, I’d say I did it just because I didn’t want them to change that, if I could help it.”

“I understand,” Allura replied, her own voice soft.  She could shift her hair to whatever length she wanted, including ones less cumbersome.  But she didn’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of taking away how she liked to look.

Shiro nodded.  “So, I guess the answer is just vanity and rebellion.  Then being stubborn.”

Leaning forward, Allura kissed his temple.  “None of which are bad things, in moderation.”

Even without seeing Shiro’s face, Allura knew he was smiling.

The questions had finally distracted him, which meant that Allura could pick up the pace, moving down to his shoulders to massage there.  Slowly, she grew in size, in such small movements that Shiro wouldn’t notice the shift until it was completed.

Under her hands, Shiro unwound, the pad dropping from his fingers and his head slumping back.  When he was fully relaxed, Allura gently pulled him back, so he was tucked under her chin.

She didn’t try to pull him horizontal, didn’t attempt to tuck him into the bed.  Just let him lean back against her, relaxed and trusting.

“Sweet dreams,” she murmured.  “I’ll protect you from the nightmares.”

There was no verbal response, but Shiro shifted and sighed, seeming to fully settle in.

Allura held her lover close, and let the peace of the moment soothe her as well.

There were so many things she couldn’t fix or change.  But this she could do, so she would.


	10. Shatt, 70

Something was wrong.

Matt knew that as soon as he drifted to consciousness.  Something wasn’t right here.  Something was strange and out of place.

Brow furrowing, Matt stayed very quiet, trying to figure out the source of his unease.  Was there something wrong with the ship?  Was there something in his room?

None of the sounds were out of the ordinary.  The usual faint groaning of the ship as the engines worked, the rumble of the environmental controls keeping everything at a steady temperature, the sound of Shiro’s breathing, deep and steady-

Wait.

Shiro’s breathing?

Cracking his eyes open, Matt was greeted by black hair, with a few white strands trying to poke him in the cheek.

Shiro was still here.  And he was still asleep.

That never happened.

Mind, Shiro staying the night wasn’t odd.  Sometimes a nightmare would jolt him awake, and either he’d wander off to his own room for privacy or he’d snuggle back down next to Matt.  These days, unless he was particularly distressed, Matt pretended to sleep through it.  Shiro seemed to like that he was letting Matt rest and not making a spectacle of himself, which helped him freak out less after.

But even on those days, Shiro rose early.  He was a morning person, which was probably the thing most likely to actually break them up.  At 6 AM standard castle time, Shiro was up and ready to face the day, usually with push-ups and reviewing data.

The bastard.

This was the first time that not only had Matt not been woken up in the middle of the night, but that he was up before Shiro.

They had the morning off today, while Allura helped Coran with an error in the ship’s energy flow.  Something had gone wrong during one of the fights, and unless one was magical, it was near impossible to tell where the leak went.   During the same fight, Katie had broken her wrist during a nasty jolt, so while the pod had healed her, she was still ordered to rest it and let it set.

So after a solid half an hour of back and forth, Shiro had let Matt turn off his alarm.  Likely, he’d expected to wake up anyway.  He was often up before his alarm, anyway.

Not today.

Smiling, Matt shifted slowly so he wouldn’t disturb his bedmate.  He pressed a kiss into the dark strands, and then held still while Shiro twitched in response.  But he didn’t wake.

Once he was sure Shiro was firmly asleep, Matt leaned back so he could see his face.

Shiro’s bangs were ruffled, shoved up over the top of his head and poking up strangely.  At the angle, the scar over the bridge of his nose wasn’t as obvious, but Matt could see how long and dark his eyelashes were.  They settled against his cheeks, still and peaceful, just like the way his lips were slightly open.

Gorgeous.

Even that hint of drool.

Goddamn, Matt was a goner.

The urge to touch was like a tugging pressure on Matt’s hands, drawing him to reach out and running his fingers along Shiro’s skin.  He wanted to tap Shiro’s nose to watch it crinkle, to run his knuckles along Shiro’s cheek and feel the softness.  To press the lips open wider and feel the gentle breath.

Matt was a scientist, and he was a (paleo) geologist.  He wanted to touch and see for himself, even when it was a bad idea.

This time, he managed to resist.  Instead, Matt untangled his legs from Shiro and scooted back, trying to pull away without waking him.  If he snuck out now, he might be able to catch breakfast being made rather than served, and if he played his cards right, he could get Hunk to pile up a tray for them.  Breakfast in bed sounded like an excellent idea.

But when he started to pull away, Shiro groaned and reached out, tugging Matt right back in.

Not so asleep, then.

“Good morning, Starshine,” Matt greeted, soft rather than the overly cheery sarcasm he’d meant to say.  “The Earth says hello.”

Shiro chuckled, little huffs of sleepy breath against Matt’s chest.  “Houston?  I have a problem.  M’boyfriend thinks he’s sneaky.”

“Excuse you, I’m very sneaky!”  Despite his dramatic offense, Matt smiled down at him.  “I was going to get us food.  Can I go now?”

Considering that, Shiro shook his head into Matt’s chest.  “Nope.  You’re warm.  Stay.”

Matt’s chest turned to warm goop. “Alright.”  Settling back down, he smiled into Shiro’s hair.  “All that food’s going to be gone later.”

“We can make more.”

Oh, that’d go well.

Smiling, Matt settled back down, and imagined the chaos to come.

It was going to be fun.


	11. Sheith, 42

By mutual agreement, they were taking it slow.

A big part of that was for Shiro’s benefit.  Neither of them were really sure how he’d take close physical interaction or most kinds of intimacy.  His past was a darkened minefield, after all, and any moment they could trip over something that would send them both reeling.

That combined with their busy schedules.  It was hard to find time alone that wasn’t at the end of the day.  And Shrio wasn’t a great cuddler when he was tired, too stiff and nervous with someone else in bed.  Besides that, they were just both out of energy, so it was rare for them to do anything past sharing a few kisses and otherwise just trying to relax.

So Shiro became very familiar with a phrase.

“Is this okay?” Keith would ask, wrapping himself around Shiro as the big spoon.

The answer was yes, so long as Shiro was aware of where he was.  When he started to lose that, Keith would back off, no fuss, and Shiro couldn’t be more grateful.

“Is this okay?” Keith asked, pausing with his hand just starting to sneak up Shiro’s shirt.

The first time it wasn’t.  Shiro held his arms to his side, keeping Keith from pushing it up and seeing.  After that it was bit by bit, letting Shiro take his slow, careful time to get comfortable with being seen, to accept that Keith didn’t look at him and see something ugly.

“Is this okay?” Keith teased, hand wrapped around the back of Shiro’s head, tugging him down for a stolen kiss in the hallway.

It very much was.  While Shiro tended to err more private than not, he had no qualms with anyone knowing he and Keith were dating.  So he kissed back, tugging Keith closer to him and nipping his bottom lip just to feel him gasp.

Despite the questions, Keith never pushed, never did anything that Shiro hadn’t already done to Keith, never moved beyond boundaries that Shiro had only meant to be a one time thing.

It was appreciated.  It might even have been necessary.  But it meant that Shiro had to step up.

Splaying one hand over Keith’s clothed hip, Shiro smiled up at him.  “Is this okay?”  He asked, half mischievously and half honestly.

“Are you sure?” Keith asked, eyes wide.  “You never- I thought below the belt was...”

Shiro bit his bottom lip.  Oh.  He could see how Keith could have gotten that impression, from how he’d been gently pushed away at times.  And they still didn’t know, technically.

But Shiro wasn’t afraid.  They were mapping out the dark parts of Shiro’s memories with nothing but small flashlights, but they were meticulous and careful, and now he felt confident enough to explore.

“I want to do this with you,” Shiro replied, rather than try to give a definite answer.  “I know you’ll never hurt me, and if something bothers me then we can stop.”  Pushing up Keith’s shirt, he kissed over the warm skin of his stomach.  “So long as you’re comfortable.”

Keith hesitated, then stared.

Maybe all that hesitation hadn’t just been for Shiro, then.

Pulling back, Shiro leaned over him.  “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“I need to readjust,” Keith replied.  “I got used to the idea.  It was okay with me.  More than I’d thought.”

Huh.  Interesting.  Shiro dipped down to kiss him.  “We can wait.  And if it turns out you’d rather not, I’m okay with that.”

Keith’s eyes ran over Shiro’s face, like he was looking for the lie.  But there was none to find, so finally he smiled.  “Can we kiss instead?”

“Of course,” Shiro replied, moving down again.  “Actually, though, I have one more question.”

“Hm?”

“Is this okay?”

Then Shiro tug his fingers into Keith’s side, exactly where he was ticklish.  He got a howl in response, and soon Keith latched on and tried to flip them to get the upperhand.

In the end they were out of breath, sweaty, and out of their shirts, if not for the reason Shiro had meant to be.

But they were also smiling and comfortable, and that was what really mattered.


	12. Sheith, 60

“Shiro?”

Looking up from the small mountain of papers and books in front of him, Shiro offered Keith a distracted smile.  “Hey.  Good morning.”  Then he paused and glanced down at his phone.  “Uh, good afternoon.”  

Keith glanced at his customary spot next to Shiro at the table, the hint of a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth.  For a moment, Shiro didn’t understand the problem, but then he realized his work had migrated over a couple of feet, and Keith couldn’t put down his tray.

Oh, right.

Scrambling everything back into place, Shiro shot him another flash of a smile, this one sheepish.  “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.  I could have sat elsewhere.”  Keith plopped down comfortably and moved his drink off the tray and onto the table.  

Shiro snorted.  “Nope.  Illegal. You’ve chosen your seat, Kogane, no moving anymore forever.  You’re stuck there until you graduate.”

Rolling his eyes, Keith pointed at Shiro with his fork.  “You know what the instructors say.  I’m a renegade.  A rebel.”

“Oh, a bad boy.  Are you gunna be a bad influence on me?”  Shiro rested his hand over his chest, eyes wide.

Keith just snorted.  “Oh yeah.   _ I’m _ the bad influence.”  They shared a quick grin, full of memories of how Shiro always snuck them out to goof off.  “Why are you buried in papers, anyway?”

“Because I’m hoping it’ll all entomb me.  I’ll suffocate under textbooks and die content.  It’s why they’re so expensive, even when used.  They have to clean off the blood.”

There was a pause.  “You know, once in awhile?  You could just answer the question instead of being so dramatic.”

Shiro blinked at him.  “I don’t understand.”

“You could not invoke death at every turn.  Did you know that?”  Keith rolled his eyes.  “I’m just not sure you’re aware.”

“Still not getting it.”

Groaning, Keith reached for his glass instead.  “Forget it, I don’t care anymore.”

Shiro finally laughed.  “It’s tutoring work.  I put it off over the weekend and I need to get it done by tomorrow.”  He followed Keith’s movement, then frowned.  “You got cake?”

Since when did Keith randomly get cake?  Or any dessert, for that matter.  He wasn’t against it, but Shiro had never seen him just randomly spend the extra money for it.  In fact, nearly every time he’d seen Keith eat sweets, it was because Shiro had gotten them both some as a reward.

Without looking, Keith picked up the cake and put it on top of Shiro’s papers.

Shiro waited for an explanation.  None came.  “Uh, isn’t your tray a better place for this?  Chocolate smears on papers aren’t exactly professional.”

“No, because it’s for you.”

What?

Shiro delicately picked up the plate, looking at Keith in askance.  “Did you decide you didn’t want it, or...?”

“Are you-?”  Keith turned to look at him again, expression flat.  “Seriously?  Happy birthday.”

Shiro stared.  “You- oh.  It is that time of the year, huh?  You didn’t have to.”

Brows up, Keith shrugged.  “Of course I didn’t have to.  You don’t tell anyone.”

“Neither do you,” Shiro replied.

That only made Keith snort.  “You abused your power and got into my file.  I had to return fire after that.”

Gathering up the papers, Shiro set them carefully to the other side and smiled down at the cake.  It was nice.  He tended not to make a fuss about his birthday, both out of apathy, any lack of desire to make others feel obligated, and most importantly, to avoid the leap year jokes.  Still, it made it special that Keith had not only cared, but he’d gone out of his way to find out.

“Thank you,” Shiro replied softly.  “I appreciate it.”

Keith smiled back and handed over a fork.  “You’re welcome.”

There was a brief moment where their fingers brushed when Shiro took it.  For a moment, his heartbeat caught, and he thought  _ maybe. _

But this wasn’t the time or place, even if Shiro was willing to make that leap, yet.  They were in the middle of a crowded cafeteria, and if or when he ever decided to chance it, then it wouldn’t be somewhere like this.

Instead, Shiro took a bite and smiled around the fork, pleased.  “Chocolate was perfect for today.  Thank you.”

“I’m glad.  You should enjoy your chocolate now.  This time next year, you won’t be anywhere near Earth to get any, anyway.”  Keith smiled, utterly calm and confident.

Eyes going wide, Shiro leaned closer and shushed him.  “Hey, not here.”  Shiro wasn’t even supposed to know much about the status of the Kerberos mission applications, and if someone had given him a heads up that he’d moved to the next stage of selection, then he  _ definitely _ wasn’t supposed to have told Keith that.

Keith held up his hands.  “I don’t know anything.  I just believe in you.  They’d be crazy not to take you.”

“There are plenty of amazing candidates,” Shiro replied, but his smile warmed.  “I appreciate it, though.”

“Anytime,” Keith replied, eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement.

Maybe maybe maybe.

But now wasn’t the time, and it wasn’t the place.

So instead, Shiro shrugged.  “Well, if not... next year maybe we can celebrate together on my actual birthday.”

Keith’s gaze brightened.  “I’d like that.”

Shiro would too.

Maybe he would make the cut.  Maybe he wouldn’t.  Maybe he would take the plunge with Keith.  Maybe he wouldn’t.

Who knew what the future held?

Shiro didn’t.  But right now, he had cake and his best friend on his not-birthday, and that was enough.


	13. Shance, 96

This planet had  _ rain. _

Which was, in terms of the mission, bad news.  It meant mud and lowered visibility, and the whipping winds made it harder to track and hit the enemy planes.  

But it also meant that after that, when the castle was set down on land and they were doing a few repairs from the battle, Lance had some time to himself.

Looking up at the stormy skies, Lance closed his eyes and let the water run over him.  He’d always been a gentle rain over thunderstorms person, mostly for the sound of it, but he’d take what he could get.  After so long without, the power of the storm hit him in a way it hadn’t since he was a young child nervous of thunder.

When Lance closed his eyes, he could almost think he was peering over the window sill, staring out and knowing the seas would be churning, hearing the waves crashing powerfully.  Could almost believe his mother was just a few steps behind, reading now but prepared to wrap him in a hug if he needed it.

He could almost believe he was back on Earth.

Then, abruptly, the drops stopped.

Opening his eyes, Lance didn’t see grey clouds anymore.  Instead, he saw some sort of shimmering shield, like a curved version of the ones in the paladin armor. 

Lance looked over and saw Shiro holding some small device in his hand, probably whatever control the shield.  “You okay?” He asked, brow furrowed.  “I brought you an umbrella.”  Then he paused and frowned at the shield. “Well, as close to it as possible.”

Brushing the leftover drops from his forehead, Lance shook his head.  It sprayed water everywhere, and Shiro actually jolted away from him.  Heh.  “Nah, I was good.  Just enjoying the rain.”

“Oh.  Sorry to interrupt, then.”  Shiro nodded to him, then took a step back so Lance wasn’t under the shield’s protection anymore.  Immediately, the rain soaked Lance again, flattening the tufts of hair that his shaking had ruffled.  

When Lance looked over, Shiro looked baffled, but there was a warmth to his gaze.  It was clear he didn’t get it, not really, but he appreciated that Lance did.

Good enough.

Closing his eyes, Lance tilted his head back up.

Until what felt like a bucket of water hit him in the face.

Sputtering, Lance snapped his eyes back open.  This time, Shiro’s expression was the picture of innocence, despite how the shield was tilted.  Now, all the water that came down over Shiro ran down onto Lance like a waterfall.  

“I thought I’d help,” Shiro offered, still smiling like he’d done absolutely nothing wrong.

Lance narrowed his eyes, then shot Shiro an equally fanged smile.  “Oh, you’re right.  It’s exactly what I wanted.  Here, let me thank you with a hug.”

Immediately, Shiro’s smile dropped.  “That won’t be necessa-”

Springing at him, Lance tried to wrap his arms around Shiro’s waist.  But he was too fast, ducking away with a laugh.  The next grab missed as well, just by bare inches, but Lance got the feeling it was because Shiro knew exactly what Lance’s reach was, rather than that he’d just gotten closer.

Dammit, he needed a new strategy.

Glancing down at the squelching ground, Lance reached down and grabbed a handful of mud.  Then he threw it hard, smacking Shiro on the shoulder.

Shiro stared at the wet blog dripping down his arm, then narrowed his eyes at Lance.

Well, it had worked, but Lance really hadn’t thought this one through.

Spinning on his heel, Lance started to run off, but Shiro’s arm wrapped around his waist and yanked him back.  For a moment, Lance’s feet left the ground completely, leaving him kicking at the open air.

Then Shiro dropped him, fully intending for Lance to land in the mud puddle.

Except Lance wrapped an arm around Shiro’s neck just as he let go, and the weight of him dragged Shiro right down into the mud with him.

“Eugh!”  Shiro sat up, wiping at his face, but he grinned widely.  “Gross.  This is going to get everywhere.”

At first, Lance opened his mouth to make a snide comment about mud in Shiro’s underwear.  Then he realized Shiro meant his arm.  Oh,  Whoops.

Moving closer, Lance offered him a sheepish smile.  “Sorry about that.”

“No, I started it.” Shiro shot him a warm look.  “And you got what you wanted.”

True.  The scuffle had required too much use of his hands to keep the shield steady, and now Shiro was just as soaked with rain as Lance.

Moving so they were arm to arm, Lance looked over at Shiro.  “Did you ever miss it?”

“Rain?”  Shiro considered.  “Not really.  Kind of, in a ‘I’d take anything’ way, but I was never all that fond of rain.  I’m not a huge fan of getting wet and messy like that, so I prefer sunshine.”

Lance snorted. “Well, LA is the place for that.”

“Exactly.”  Shiro grinned.  But then the smile slipped, and he looked up as well, gaze going considering.  “But this is nice.”

Smiling at him, Lance leaned into his shoulder. “Yeah, it is.”

Despite the layers of wet fabric between them, Lance could feel the warmth through the chill of the rain.  Eager to feel more of it, he placed his hand over Shiro’s natural one.

A moment later, Shiro flipped it over so he could intertwine their fingers.  He didn’t look over, eyes still closed and face aimed at the sky, but Lance could see his small, nearly shy smile, and the hint of color to his cheeks.

They both stayed there for a long while.

And if Coran gave them a good fussing for coming back shivering, wet, and muddy, well, it was worth it.


	14. Shallura, 21 (Rated M)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter has a Mature rating

“I’m surprised you don’t wear more of your outfits.”

The question made Allura pause, and she poked her head back out of her closet.  “Excuse me?”  Shiro had spoken suddenly, and she wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at.

Shrugging, Shiro pulled a pillow over to rest on as he peered into the closet after her.  “I just don’t recall seeing you in most of those.  It’s almost always the one dress or your battle suit.”

Allura frowned back, a touch defensive.  “I could say the same of you paladins.”

“Well, these are the clothes we had on us,” Shiro replied.  “And we do occasionally dip into the other clothes around here, but the Altean styles aren’t exactly what we’re used to.  Plus, I think we tend to like to wear our own things.  I usually prefer to.”

Continuing to eye him, Allura nodded.  “Then what’s the issue when I do it?”

That made Shiro pause.  “There’s no problem, Princess,” he replied, voice slowing as he chose his words more carefully.  “I was just wondering why.  I thought the others might be for special occasions, or maybe they’re just older.”

Oh.  Allura nodded, a touch sheepishly.  “No, actually. This is just the most... professional of the outfits.  Both this and the battle suit are what one would expect someone of my station to wear.”

“Ah, like a uniform?”

“Yes,” Allura replied, relaxing.  “Especially when the war with the Galra was growing worse, I became used to wearing it in case I was needed.  On the Castle of Lions it was more appropriate.  Back home, I would have worn more variation.”

Shiro nodded like he understood that completely.  Given that he had been in his planet’s military, that made sense.  “So it’s just habit?”

“I feel strange wearing other clothing on the castle,” Allura admitted.  “But I suppose there’s no reason not to, for myself or Coran.  There’s no one who would know the difference.”

Sitting up, Shiro frowned.  “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry, I was just curious.”

Allura sighed.  “It’s alright.  It certainly isn’t your fault.  It’s just strange to know that there’s no one else who remembers.”  Before Shiro could speak again - probably to apologize more - Allura nodded to the closet.  “Now would be an appropriate time to practice that.”

“If you’re uncomfortable you don’t have to,” Shiro replied immediately, his eyes still sharp.  “I don’t mean to push you.”

“I know,” Allura replied.  “And you’re right.  It’s a bit ridiculous to let these clothes go to waste.  I like wearing them, I just haven’t given it much thought.”  But it did feel a touch bitter.

There might be a way to help that, though.

So Allura shot Shiro a smile. “I would hate to do that when you only have your own single set of clothing, though.  Maybe you’d like to try something on as well?”

Shiro paused, surprised at the idea.  It took Allura a moment to realize it was partially that her clothing would fit him.  The lack of shapeshifting was quite strange.  Not all Alteans could do it to Allura’s degree, but the utter lack was very... alien.

Appropriate.

“Alright,” Shiro finally agreed.  “Why don’t you pick something out?”

With a flash of a toothy smile, Allura ducked back into her closet.

In a few moments, she emerged in a more casual garment.  It was a dress as well, in overlapping layers of soft pink that swirled around her legs to her mid-shin.  It was also sleeveless, and instead tied behind her neck, leaving her arms and most of her neck bared.

There were other parts of this dress that were meant to be layered over top, including where the cape would be attached, but Allura didn’t imagine Shiro would mind the lack.  Especially since his species didn’t seem to have as much fondness for capes, baffling as that was.

True to form, he sat up further, eyes bright.  “Oh.  I like that. It looks very soft.”  He gestured and she stepped over, one hand still held casually behind her back.  Shiro eyed the movement, but otherwise ignored it, instead resting his natural hand on Allura’s hip and running this thumb over the fabric.  “It’s lovely.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Allura told him.  “Hopefully you’ll like this as well.”

Then she pulled out the outfit chosen for him.

It was lingere.  Made of little more than thin, white strands for fabric, except for a few additions stylized to look like feathers or wings on the back, it would cover absolutely nothing.

Shiro stared at it.  Slowly, his cheeks went pink and his pupils expanded.  “It’s, uh, very bold.”

“You are bold, my Paladin,” Allura replied, voice dropping to a purr as she teased.  “And you told me your name means white, correct?  I thought it would suit you.”

For a moment, Shiro’s mouth worked.  Then he finally seemed to realize she was poking fun, and his shoulders relaxed.  “I’m not sure it’s my size.”

“It adjusts,” she told him, lips curling up farther.  “But there’s no way to be sure but to check.”

Shiro’s eyes tracked up to hers, wavering between embarrassment and challenge.  Finally, he shot her a smile right back.  “Well, I guess we’ll see.”

He undressed quickly, leaving his clothing carefully folded next to him on the bed.  Since they were likely to be using that space shortly, Allura put it down on her dresser instead. Shiro shot her a thankful smile in return.  While he didn’t hold himself as confidently when he wasn’t covered, he was passed the time when he would try and curl up on himself.  Allura was relieved to see it.  Helping him to come to terms with the change of his body and his self-image was an ongoing process, but it was always good to see him growing.

This could be part of that.

Immediately, Shiro ran into problems of how to put the lingerie on.  He twisted it in his hands several times, clearly trying to figure out what to put where.  

“Would you like any help?” Allura asked, a teasing note to her voice.

For a moment, Shiro only scowled, looking determined to figure it out himself.  But then he sighed and nodded.  “Yes, please.”

With Allura’s help, then managed to get his head in the appropriate hole, and she clipped everything in place around him until it was all secure.  One stripe attempted to cover his nipples but didn’t manage, showing hints of red on top and bottom, and the small scrap of thick fabric cave the illusion of modest covering more than it actually blocked prying eyes. There was no such attempt over his butt, simply running between his cheeks and otherwise not touching.

Shiro looked exposed, especially when Allura could track his blush from his ears down to his chest.

“This feels silly,” he told her, voice strangled.

“Does it?  Maybe you need to see it how I do.”  Allura offered him a hand, then helped heave him up and took him to her mirror.  Under more direct lights, his scars did stand out more, but so did his blush and how soft his skin was where it hadn’t been hastily healed.  “Is that better?”

Shiro’s eyes stayed latched onto the mirror as he shook his head.  “No.”

So Allura stepped behind him, growing so she could hook her chin on his shoulder, then ran her hands between the straps.  Her dark fingers stood out starkly against pale skin and white straps, and his muscles jolted visibly under his skin before she even touched, more out of anticipation than action.

“I think you look lovely,” she told him, soft but sincere.  “I think you look powerful when I can see all your muscles, and I love being able to see where you’re flushed.  I love having you open for my eyes, and knowing you wear this for me.”

Shiro took a deep breath, then let it go slowly.  Inch by inch, he relaxed as he seemed to accept that Allura was being honest about her interest.  She wasn’t so good an actress that she could fake the hunger in her gaze, after all.

Finally, he licked his hips, and his gaze brightened when hers tracked the movement.  “Perhaps you’d like me more exposed, then?”

Allura smirked at their reflections.  “Is that needed?  I can simply...”  She undid one of the straps, and the one between his cheeks fell away, leaving him utterly open.

The way his cheeks darkened with his blush was absolutely the highlight of the evening.

“Well, then,” Shiro replied, voice strangled.  “I suppose that works.”

Allura bit his shoulder playfully, and dragged her hands down to dig her fingers into the meat of his ass.  “Brace your hands on the mirror,” she ordered.

Eyes going wide, Shiro swallowed as he obeyed.  “Yes, Princess.”

Smiling back at him, Allura reached for some lube and prepared to show him exactly how much she enjoyed this sight.  And she kept his gaze on the mirror the whole time, so he would enjoy it as well.

The next day, Shiro wore a different shirt, gray and with shorter sleeves than his usual.  When asked, Shiro just replied that Allura had helped him find other clothing in the castle - his turtleneck was starting to wear thin, after all.

None of the paladins seemed to notice the slight hint of color to the tips of his ears.  None of them knew that Allura had also helped him pick out something silky and significantly less utilitarian to wear under his pants.

That could be their secret.


	15. Sheith, 39

Keith had a few ideas for how the reunion would go, when he gave himself permission to think about it.

Sometimes, he liked Pidge’s idea that Shiro’s disappearance had something to do with the odd purple space Shiro had talked about when he bonded with the lion.  Maybe he’d been stuck there, left inside and they only needed to find him.  That one day when Keith was flying in Black, he’d hear a familiar voice reminding him to  _ watch your peripherals better, you should know this by now.  _  That they would try to form Voltron and Shiro would be there same as always, still part of the team, just in another plane of reality.

That one Keith liked because it meant Shiro was close by.  It meant he was safe, tucked away in that strange purple place, so long as Zarkon wasn’t there to bother him.  It meant that Keith could reach him if he just did what he’d been asked to do and stepped up as a leader.

But the longer he stayed the Black Paladin, the more distant his hope.

Other days, Keith let himself hope for Lance’s stories, that Shiro had been sent away somehow.  Whatever the Black Lion did to phase in that battle with Zarkon, it also had the power to send Shiro far across the universe.  He was off having cool adventures, righting wrongs and bringing justices from planet to planet as he tried to find a way to contact them and come home.

None of them mentioned that if Shiro had been shot across the universe, the chances of him hitting someplace solid, much less survivable, were laughably, vanishingly small.

Keith liked to think that Shiro wasn’t trapped, on those days.  That he had his freedom, that he was getting to be himself without the pressures of Voltron, but that he was going to come back, probably in a blaze of glory at the last moment and be stronger for it.  While they were growing up and taking command, he was healing and settling into himself again, and they’d get the Shiro that Keith remembered from the Garrison back.

The chances of that were just as small as his survival.

On his worst days, Keith agreed with Hunk’s haltingly offered fears: that it was Haggar who had taken Shiro, for some awful purpose.  More experiments, to try and turn him into one of her beasts, to try and make him into the weapon she always wanted.

It made Keith sick to think about.  Shiro never deserved to wind back up in Galra captivity, not after what he’d escaped and what he’d lost.  And if he was there, could they even get him back?

At least if he died floating in the void of space, it was humane.  Sad, yes, but if it ever got too bad, Shiro could just open his helmet and end it.  No long weeks of pain with no escape, not a second time.  Even if they got him back, how much could Shiro really survive and overcome?  How much was too much to expect someone to return from?

What Keith had always expected, to his chagrin, was something dramatic.  A bonding moment, reaching beyond their dimension.  A triumphant return in the nick of time.  A harrowing rescue, and the pain that would come after.

Never for Shiro to just show up, smile and apologize for the confusion.

Never for him to pat them all on the head and tell them they were doing great.  Not for Shiro to listen to their stories with appropriate appreciation and pride while exclaiming over Hunk’s cooking.  Not for nothing more than a few waved off explanations about waking up somewhere strange and borrowing a ship.

Not for everything to feel normal.  Too normal.   _ Fake. _

It was that feeling that drove Keith to Shiro’s room that night.  He expected to find the others there, but apparently either he was the only one, or he was just the first.

Opening the door, Shiro looked tired for just a split second, but then he offered a smile - the same, easy, comforting smile that said ‘you can let me help carry your burden, tell me everything.’

“Where were you?” Keith demanded, without so much as a hello.

Shiro’s expression fell.  “I told you, I can’t pronounce the name of the planet.  I could point to it on a map-”

But Keith shook his head, eyes bright.  “Where were you really?”  He challenged.

For a moment, Keith thought he’d miscalculated.  That Shiro was going to actually point out the planet and wonder if the leadership had rattled something loose in Keith’s head.

Instead, his expression crumpled.  “Come in,” he said, that low, rough voice he only seemed to use in the scary, quiet moments between just them.  Usually right after they’d done something that nearly killed them.

Stepping in, Keith continued to meet Shiro’s gaze.  “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Shiro admitted, quiet and barely audible.  “I don’t remember again.  I woke up in that ship a few hours before I found you.  The castle’s coordinates were already inputted.”  He swallowed hard and seemed to fold in on himself, until he looked small.  “The hand was active.  I don’t know-  I know I shouldn’t have come back.  Or I should have said something.  I will.  I wasn’t going to sleep tonight, and I was going to tell Allura and Coran.  But you were all so happy to see me and talk that I didn’t want to-”

He hadn’t wanted to disappoint them. Shiro had lost his past again, had woken up with the horrible suspicion he’d done something awful beyond his will, and he still hadn’t wanted to interrupt their enthusiasm.

In this case, Keith suspected it wasn’t out of altruism.  Shiro had wanted to see them happy and excited for him, not scared.

Somehow, that thought hurt worse.

It was that feeling that made him reach out and pull Shiro close, tucking him in against Keith’s chest and shoulders.  “We’ll find out what happened together.”

Shiro’s breath caught.  For a moment, he was completely still and tense, like hugging a bronze statue.  Then his arms came around Keith, and he crushed him close until they were completely flush.

“Okay,” he replied, tiny and breathless, and Keith realized it was from tears.

Immediately, he stiffened.  “Um.  Sit?”  He gently led Shiro back to his bed, getting him to sit down.  Bent like this, with his legs draped sideways over Keith’s lap and his arms around Keith’s side, it was nearly cuddling.  “It’s okay, Shiro.  Don’t cry.  We’ll figure it out.”

“I know,” Shiro replied, though the tears didn’t stop, so Keith gave up trying to stop them.  “I just needed this afternoon.  I needed to know I was-”

That he was welcomed.  That this was home.  That  _ Shiro _ was home.

Keith held him tighter.  “You are.  And don’t worry.  Not everything is huge and dramatic, you know.  Maybe you did exactly what you said, then stumbled and hit your head again.”

There was the press of a smile against his neck.

So maybe they still didn’t have the answers Keith wanted.  Maybe he wouldn’t get his dramatic reunion, straight out of a corny TV show.

But Keith had Shiro back.  And he didn’t give a  _ fuck _ about the rest so long as he had this.


	16. Matt/Shiro/Keith, 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Put this in the wrong fic

The problem they run into with this arrangement was that neither Keith or Matt were used to sharing.

That wasn’t _exactly_ true, though.  Keith had foster siblings he’d learned to work with, and Matt had a very nosy and curious little sister.  Both of them had learned to deal when things weren’t exclusively their own.

They just weren’t naturally inclined that way.

Which lead to moments like this.

Shiro had been leaning back against Keith, enjoying a quiet moment.  He liked this arrangement, because having Keith at his back meant that no one could sneak up on him.  And Shiro could relax fully, because he trusted Keith completely.  For his part, Keith seemed to like calmer times when he could pet Shiro’s hair absent-mindedly, and otherwise not feel pressured to speak or act.  Instead, he had a pad in his other hand, reading while Shiro dozed.

Then Hurricane Matt entered, in his usual burst of noise and energy.

“Hello there,” he called, flopping down onto the bed.  It jolted both Shiro and Keith, making Shiro slide a couple of inches farther down on the bed.  “So there is where you two got off to, huh?”

Keith eyed him, still holding onto Shiro under his arms.  “Clearly.”

Rolling his eyes, Matt stretched out until he was between Shiro’s sprawled legs.  “So literal, Cherry Bomb.”  Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Shiro’s mouth.  “You look cozy.”

“I’m pretty comfortable,” Shiro admitted.  But even as he said that, he shifted to sit up better and wrapped an arm around Matt’s shoulders, smiling into his mouth.

Behind him, Keith made an annoyed noise.  “We were having a nice moment,” he muttered.

Oops.

Pulling away, Matt rested his head on Shiro’s shoulder, so all he could see was his curls and the other side of the room.   The tension in his shoulder spoke of honest annoyance.  “You’ve been hogging Shiro all afternoon.”

“It’s not hogging,” Keith shot back.  “He wanted to be here.”

Okay, no.  “Hey, enough,” Shiro called, just a hint of the leader tone creeping into his voice.

But that never stopped Matt before, and it didn’t work now.  “And then he was enjoying being kissed,” he returned easily, and it would have been reasonable if not for the hint of something snide in his tone.  “Works both ways, you know.”

“Can’t you go be loud somewhere else?”

Pulling back, Matt pouted at Shiro.  “Aww, Sugar Bear, you want me here, don’t you?”

Shiro snorted.  “Less when you’re using the nicknames.”

“Takashi,” Matt corrected.  “Are you kicking me out?”

And despite the fact that he knew Matt was being playful, that still tugged on his heartstrings.  “No, I’m not.”

Keith huffed.  “Cheating.”

“Is not!”

Closing his eyes, Shiro groaned.  “Okay, seriously, enough.  Matt, you did interrupt a quiet moment.  Keith, Matt was just being himself, and he’s welcome here, too.  Would you two cut it out?”

There was a moment of chagrined silence.  “Wasn’t trying to get you heated,” Matt told Keith quietly.  “I just wanted to know where you two got to.”

“I know,” Keith replied, in nearly the same tone.  “You weren’t being excluded.”

Matt winced, which meant it was a direct hit.  “Eh, everyone gets one on one time.  S’fine.  You just weren’t where I expected you, so... made it worse.  Anyway.”  He ducked forward and kissed Keith, gentler than the kiss to Shiro just a minute ago.  “Want me to go?”

Shaking his head, Keith offered a small smile.  “No, you can stay.”  He glanced over at Shiro, who smiled and relaxed now that they weren’t getting into a spat.  “In fact... You can go first.”

“Hm?”  First?  Shiro opened his mouth to question that, but then Matt darted forward to kiss him.  The force of it knocked him over onto the bed, but Keith was there a second later, giving him a gentler kiss.

The trade off continued for a few dizzying moment, until Shiro had forgotten all about their tiff.  “Okay!  You made your point.”

“What point?” Matt asked, all studied innocence.  “No points here.  Just very relaxing kisses.”

Yeah, relaxing.  As if they didn’t know the back and forth was making his head spin.  “Wait.  Wanna see you two kiss.”

Keith gave him a last peck.  “Sure.”  With that he turned and kissed Matt too, casual and easy.  It wasn’t the rapid fire tease, but a simple, easy exchange.

Maybe they didn’t come to sharing naturally, but they were plenty good at it when reminded.

And where Keith was all intense silences and Matt was misdirecting noise, they were good together.

They balanced.

Leaning back, Shiro watched them with a smile, content to enjoy the show.

They had problems, sometimes, but they worked it out.

That was what mattered.


	17. Uliro, 37

Shiro still thought that teaching Ulaz the basics of Earth culture through movies was a good idea.  The animated ones had been a bit of trouble, because he had trouble understanding why the strange moving drawings were singing - but overall, it had been a success.

If there was a mistake, it was probably in letting the team help pick out movies.

It hadn’t even been malicious.  If Lance or Pidge had been behind this one, Shiro might have suspected it was meant as sass.  But this was Hunk’s pick, and he’d waxed poetic about human relationships and emotional depth and so Shiro hadn’t had the heart to pass on it.

Which was how Shiro ended up watching a dramatic period piece romance movie with Ulaz.

Once Ulaz had been told this was a recreation of a specific area of history, he’d started to eat the movie up.  

In comparison, Shiro wasn’t particularly interested.  After all, it wasn’t  _ his _ history.  It turned out that explaining to a Galra that yes, it was the history of people on Earth, but not of his people didn’t come across right: There was a cultural sense that all of history was Galra history, so creating differentiation between ‘the area my family came from’ and ‘the area other families came from’ didn’t really work.

That and Shiro had just never been a period piece person unless it involved military battles or big political movements or just... anything more than this one family trying to marry off their daughters.

But Ulaz got sucked into the spectacle of it, then he’d gotten emotional invested.  His eyes went wide when the romantic leads were close, and when their hands brushed, Ulaz’ breath audibly caught.

Which, yes, was pretty damn cute.  It made the whole thing worth it.  So if Shiro was watching Ulaz more than the screen, he thought that was pretty understandable.

“What is this ritual?” Ulaz asked, not looking away from the screen, as one of the leads went down on one knee.  “What does this mean?”

“It’s a commitment to a lifelong relationship,” Shiro replied carefully.  “In this case, that they’ll be monogamous with each other for the rest of their lives.”

Ulaz nodded, eyes practically sparkling.  “Humans mate for life?”

Oh boy.  “Socially.  Sometimes.  There’s no biological drive for it, as far as I know.”

The proposal was of course, accepted, because it was the end of the movie and that’s how it had to end.  Then they embraced dramatically, corsets straining and bodices heaving and all that glorious nonsense, before they pressed their lips together in front of the setting sun, and the music spelled, and the credits finally started to play.

Ulaz was still watching with near laser intensity.  “I know that gesture,” he said quietly.  “That is the kissing.”

“Just kissing, no ‘the’.”  That got him an odd look, and Shiro winced.  Yeah, that wouldn’t translate sensibly.  “Hopefully the castle will catch up.  Yes, you’ve seen it in a few other movies.”

Ulaz turned to look at Shiro, gaze hopeful and ears perked up.  “May I kiss you?”

_ Oh. _

“Um,” Shiro managed, voice strangled.  For a  moment his mind stalled out.  Kissing?  Ulaz wanted to- Shiro had been quietly dealing with his attraction to Ulaz since he joined the team, and he didn’t think it had been noticeable.

He had the feeling the other paladins would slyly disagree, but that wasn’t the point.

Now Ulaz wanted to  _ kiss _ him?

Then the realization struck, and Shiro’s shoulders relaxed.  “You may, but you should know that kissing is usually seen as part of a romantic relationship.  At least on the lips.  Other places are considered more friendly.”

Ulaz looked at Shiro like he had just told him how to do simple addition.  “Yes.  I wish to kiss like couples do.”  Then he frowned.  “Are we not a couple?”

“We’re a couple?” Shiro sputtered back, reeling like Ulaz had shoved him back.  “You, we- when did- is this from before?”

Slowly, Ulaz’ shoulders fell, and he looked down into his lap.  “No, I know you do not remember.  I would have told you.  There was no place for that with the Druids.  But we have been doing couple activities.  Spending meals together and watching the movies and speaking together into the night.  I thought...”

Oh god.

Oh god, he was right.  They’d been dating for a few weeks now.

Shiro felt like he was going to fall off the couch.  All this time.   _ Weeks _ and not once had he realized what Ulaz was trying to do.

Maybe his crush hadn’t been as subtle as he thought.

“I apologize, it was forward of me,” Ulaz said suddenly, and Shiro realized he’d just let half a minute go by while he gaped.  “Clearly that was not your intention.  I will pull back.”

“No!”  Shiro snapped into action, reaching out to grab onto Ulaz’ shoulder.  “I just didn’t know.  There was never a conversation.  I thought you were just being friendly.  But I don’t mind.  In fact, I’d like it very much.”

Ulaz perked back up, his ears twitching.  “But you accepted the food from- oh.  That is not a human custom.”   
  
Ah, so that’s what all the meal sharing had been about.

“No, and I prefer it to be in words anyway.  It’s the most efficient way to communicate.  As an example: May I kiss you?”

Ulaz smiled, bright and wide.  “Yes.  I would like that.”  He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Shiro.

Kissing a Galra turned out to be a bit more complicated than Shiro had maybe thought about at night (and also dreamed about, but in much less innocent terms).  Their noses didn’t quite match, so Shiro had to tile farther than he would with a human, and the tongue and teeth were strange.

But the kiss was still perfect.

It had been a good movie choice after all-

“Son of a bitch!”  Shiro pulled back suddenly, eyes wide.

Ulaz stared, mouth open.  “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, no, not- nothing’s wrong.  I just realized Hunk was being a little- you know what, later.  Right now, kissing.”

Shiro would get Hunk back later.

After he gave him a big thank you hug.

...Or maybe before.


	18. Uliro, 93

Shiro knocked on the door to the med bay as he stepped in.  Ulaz and Coran both looked up at him, brows up.  

“Hey,” he greeted, holding up a hand and then dropping it.  “I just wanted to check in.  That was a nasty hit.”

Ulaz eyed him, but it was a soft, fond glance.  “Not so bad.  I have taken worse before.”

That didn’t exactly make Shiro feel better - Ulaz had tried to throw himself into a dimensional rift, after all - so he frowned at Coran.

“Seems to be doing just fine,” Coran agreed, patting Ulaz’ shoulder perhaps a bit harder than necessary.  “We’ve been wrapped up for a while and talking about the castle’s capabilities.”

Ulaz nodded, ears perking and eyes going bright.  “It’s fascinating.  The equipment they have on the ship is unparalleled, even now.”

Puffing up, Coran nodded and and launched into an explanation with so much jargon that Shiro nearly thought the translators had failed.  Ulaz nodded along, asking appropriate questions, and he seemed excited just to discuss it.

Meanwhile, Shiro had gone completely tense.

He wasn’t sure why that was.  There was a sudden, undeniable pressure over him, locking him into place, not unlike watching an accident happen.  His heart picked up, slamming like a frightened, wild thing inside his chest.

Scared.  Shiro was suddenly  _ scared. _

Why?

“Our diagnostic equipment is not quite so far behind, though it focuses much more on physical damage than energy, unless you are working with specific groups.”  Ulaz reached for the scanner in Coran’s hands.  When he was handed it, Ulaz slipped it over his palm and held it out in demonstration.  “It lacks the sensors here-”

Shiro was shaking.

Was it cold in here?

Maybe Shiro had made some kind of noise, because Ulaz’ ear twitched, then he turned around to look at Shiro.  “Shiro?  Are you alright?”  The scanner was still on his hand, glistening in the purple light, pointed at Shiro-

_ “Brace yourself, Champion.” _

_ Pain. _

Shiro’s feet went out from under him, and he landed hard on the unforgiving, cold floor.  He curled in on himself, on his arm, trying to protect himself from the coming hurt.

“Shiro?  Shiro!”

Panting hard, Shiro blinked down at his feet.  Boots.  He was wearing the paladin boots, white and black, rather than the prisoner uniform.  He was in a medical room-   
  
_ A medical room, strapped down, strange tubes- _

No, none of that.  Nothing like that.  Just the med bay.  The castle.  He was in the castle.  One of those voices was Coran.

Slowly, Shiro talked himself into picking up his head.  Coran sat in front of him, hands out like he wanted to touch but had thought better of it.  “Sorry, I’m here.”

“Don’t apologize,” Coran replied gently.  “Are you alright?  That was a hard fall.”

Shiro attempted a smile, but it felt like his muscles didn’t know how to make the expression anymore.  “I’m fine.  Takes more than that to hurt me.  Besides, it was just a little one.”  

Taking a deep breath, Shiro braced himself. Then he looked over at Ulaz.

Ulaz, who was curled in on himself, still sitting on the table.  Who had tossed the scanner away and tucked his huge hands into his lap like a scolded child.  He was watching Shiro with such naked pain and regret it almost hurt to see.

Shit.

“Coran?” Shiro called.  “Can you give us a minute?”

There was a pause, and Coran stepped next to him.  “If you’re sure,” he replied carefully.  “If you need a few minutes first-”

“I’d like to talk,” Shiro interrupted, though he gave Coran a soft smile in thanks for the care.  “Thank you.  I’ll call if I need anything, or if there’s something wrong.”

Coran nodded slowly, then glanced at Ulaz, who nodded back.  There was a quick exchange, silent but not particularly subtle.  If Shiro had to guess, it would be a ‘call me if it happens again’ request.

That settled, Coran left.

Leaving Ulaz and Shiro alone.

“I’m sorry,” Ulaz said nearly immediately, gaze still stuck on his lap.  “I did not think my actions through.  I should have known such talk would have affected you.  You have my sincerest apologies and my deepest regrets.”

Shiro took a deep breath.  “You did startle me.  And I won’t pretend it’s fun to have those flashbacks.  But it was bound to happen one of these days.”

Ulaz started, then gaped at him.  “Are you excusing my actions?”

“You said yourself that it wasn’t malicious,” Shiro replied simply.  But Ulaz’ gaze didn’t waver, and Shiro realized he hadn’t meant pointing the scanner at him.

Oh.  He meant before.

Sighing, Shiro sat down next to Ulaz.  “You were a prisoner, too.  Maybe for the greater good, and maybe you agreed to the position, but you didn’t do it to hurt me.”

“But I still hurt you,” Ulaz replied.  “In a way your body remembers.  Deeply.  I understand if that’s something you can’t get past.”

Shiro opened his mouth to wave it away, but then stopped.  It was true.  This was something that had stuck with him.  It wasn’t anything he could power through and pretend it didn’t exist.

They had to deal with this.  Pretending otherwise was only going to hurt them both.

“You’re right,” Shiro replied.  Ulaz nodded, eyes on the far wall and shoulder drooping.  “You did hurt me.  That left an impression.  A particularly obvious one.”  He raised the metal hand and worked the fingers.  “But you’re not totally right.  I don’t agree that I can’t get past this.  You saved me.  You set me free.  And if you had to take an arm to get there, I can understand that.  Everything else just takes time.”  He paused, then gave Ulaz a small smile.  “I believe in you.”

Believed in him the same way Ulaz had believed in Shiro first.

Every action since that moment had proved that Ulaz was honorable, that he was a good person, that he cared deeply and impulsively.

All reasons that Shiro found himself reaching out, and hoping Ulaz matched him.

“I believe in you too,” Ulaz replied, voice soft.  “I believe in you as a leader, as a warrior, and as a being.  You give me more than I deserve.”

“I’m just matching what you show me,” Shiro replied.  He pressed their sides together, and for a moment his body jolted, the residual fear still all too present.  But he settled quickly after, and after a few minutes, so did Ulaz.  “You trusted me first.”

“You have never disappointed me,” Ulaz replied.  “Thank you.  I will be worthy of this chance.”

Shiro smiled at the wall and nodded.  “You already are.”

Right now, there was so much between them.  Right now there was hurt and there was pain and there was history.

But there was also trust and hope.  There was something to believe in.

And Shiro had never been afraid of putting in hard work.

They’d get there.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [At a Glance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11918529) by [EmmaLuLuChu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaLuLuChu/pseuds/EmmaLuLuChu)




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